


Close To You

by QuintusHazard



Category: Hiveswap, Homestuck
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Earth C (Homestuck), F/F, Fluff, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Singing, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 14:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16578542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuintusHazard/pseuds/QuintusHazard
Summary: Boldir and Chixie share a romantic evening in their new home on Earth C.





	Close To You

**Author's Note:**

> I just had to write some Bolchix, I felt it in my bones.

“Why do birds suddenly appear everytime you are near?”

Your name is Boldir Lamati, and you’re currently quite content. Your head is resting on the lap of your matesprit, Chixie Roixmr, as she softly sings some sappy human love song off the radio. As she sings, she cups your face upside-down, her fingers tracing along the underside of your jaw as her thumbs rub your cheeks in circles.

Not even you could explain how you got to this entirely new universe, but one day here you were, blinking in the broad daylight with some other trolls you knew, and a group of young human gods greeting you enthusiastically. They seemed friendly and benevolent enough, unlike those in authority on Alternia. You took this new situation in your stride and settled down in this strange human house with Chixie, a troll you’d known from Alternia and developed feelings for after she’d insisted you stay with her and not sleep under a tree like on Alternia. 

Thinking about this sort of thing too hard made the weight of destiny and fate heavier on your shoulders, so you claimed, but Chixie just giggled and surmised that you must just be a little sick or stressed. So here you are, allowing her to mollycoddle you; her poor, tired matesprit. 

Your hands are currently resting on your stomach, feeling the way it rises and falls with each breath. From here, you could probably reach her pockets and rob her blind, but she won’t be carrying anything of value – she’s never had much time for trinkets and accessories with no practical use. 

“Why do stars fall down from the sky everytime you walk by?”

Chixie continues to sing, her voice light and melodious, drawing you in and providing you with a feeling of safety and of warmth inside. Her voice fills the room without being unpleasantly loud, and it soothes you. 

Chixie has been studying human music quite a lot, finding that her own old lyrics of death and woe would only be appropriate in the most despairing of emo music, or the most world-angry of screamo metal. Not favouring any of those genres for her own music, she’s been looking for inspiration for more positive lyrics. 

“Chix,” you whisper, and once you have her attention you make a kissy noise, whereupon she grins, leans over and plants a kiss on your forehead. You groan, knowing she’s just teasing you, and point to your lips. Her giggle is, in itself, musical, and she leans forward again for an upside-down kiss. 

Feeling her lips on yours is probably the best feeling in the world, and you let the kiss linger for a few seconds with your hand on her cheek before you allow her to withdraw, sit up and continue singing.

“On the day that you were born the angels got together, and decided to create a dream come true..” 

Her beautiful voice singing these beautiful lyrics puts you at ease, and you exhale slowly, allowing your whole body to relax, feeling the tension seeping away from your muscles as you let out a deep, rumbling purr from your chest. You’d have fallen asleep if it weren’t for her angelic singing, which keeps you anchored in the waking world. 

You are silent and still for the next few minutes as she sings the whole song through, then allows a few moments to pass before shifting. 

“I have to make dinner. Mac and cheese sound alright?” she asks, gently moving your head from her lap and onto a cushion she’d placed under her legs, slowly rising to her feet.

“Sounds perfect, love,” you reply, tilting your head back to watch her head to the nutrition block (humans called this the kitchen, which is admittedly easier to say but will take some time to get used to) and start boiling some water in a saucepan, adding some elbow macaroni and humming gently along to the next song on the radio. 

After about a minute you rise too, padding through to the kitchen and wrapping your arms around her from behind, standing on your toes to kiss the back of her neck. This earns you a giggle and a hum as she pours milk, butter and mixed cheeses into the saucepan after the pasta has boiled. 

“What’s cooking, good-looking?” you smirk against where her neck joins her shoulder, and she laughs like you’d just told a hilarious joke.

“Mac and cheese, you know that!” she giggles, stirring it in the pot. 

“I know, I just wanted to flirt with you,” you grin, moving your hands to her waist and rubbing there gently as the light of the setting sun dyes the room as orange as the cheese sauce, warming your skin and adding a romantic, serene atmosphere to the room. 

Chixie whistles as she moves to pour the mac and cheese into an oven dish, sprinkling some more cheese and a layer of breadcrumbs on top, putting it in the oven to bake. All the while, you’re still behind her, matching her movements step for step, and when she closes the oven, you turn her around by the waist and gaze up at her, draping your arms over her shoulders. She responds automatically by wrapping hers around your waist, and you share the most tender, loving kiss you’ve ever felt. 

Even after the kiss ends, your lips still rest together, the contact feather-light, as another song starts on the radio: some old guy crooning into the microphone that he can’t help falling in love. Letting your eyes flutter closed gently, Chixie takes the lead and steps, and you mirror her, your toes always facing as you bury your face against her shoulder and you begin to slow-dance around the kitchen. 

Chixie has an impeccable sense of rhythm, and your steps soon match the beat of the music. No words need to be exchanged in this moment, your musings about fate and paradoxes pushed to the back of your mind as you share this dance with your matesprit, dancing and swaying as the savoury smell of cheese and pasta fills the room. It’s all so comfortably domestic and warm and safe, and you admit that you get misty-eyed. There’s no risk of death here, no drones to hide from, or highbloods who want to spill your blood just due to its colour.

It’s just you and Chixie, and the rest of the world doesn’t matter now. 

Just like everything else, the song eventually comes to an end, and you and Chixie take a few moments just enjoying each other – the sight, scent, feeling. You pull your head away from her shoulder and grin at her. Chixie coos at you and rests her forehead against yours.

“Getting emotional, huh?” she teases lightly, and you laugh a little breathlessly.

“Yeah. I feel safe for the first time in my whole life, and I get to share it with you. I love you, Chixie.”

“I love you too, Boldir.”


End file.
